


You may Kiss your Husband

by nonbinarycoded



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-23
Updated: 2014-06-23
Packaged: 2018-02-05 21:18:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1832605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nonbinarycoded/pseuds/nonbinarycoded
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grif and Simmons always did talk about getting married when they got back to Earth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You may Kiss your Husband

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Imagine your OTP at the altar of a church, about to get married. Just as they’re about to kiss, Person A wakes up in bed, sobbing and staring at the empty space beside them. In reality, Person B died days ago.

Grif was crying. He told himself that he wouldn’t, that he wasn’t a fucking girl so of course he wasn’t going to cry, but when he saw Simmons in his tuxedo the reality of what was going on hit him all at once. He didn’t know he’d started crying, but at some point he realized there were tears running down his face.  
  
Simmons was actually doing a better job at holding himself together than he was, even though they both stuttered through their vows with red eyes and cracking voices and huge grins that nobody in the audience could ever remember seeing on either of them. Grif’s heart felt deafening to him, but he still managed to hear the priest say, “You may kiss your husband.” With one last grin at Simmons, he closed his eyes and leaned in.  
  
He snapped his eyes open again. Tears stained his pillow, and his eyes went wide when he realized he couldn’t breathe. He shot up in bed, the need for air turning into hyperventilating all too quickly, and he knew he still had tears pouring down his face. Suddenly feeling all too small in the otherwise empty bed, he clutched desperately at the sheets, willing his breathing to get back to something resembing normal.  
  
When the only sound in the room was an occasional slight gasp as Grif cried, he laid back down on the bed. He stared at a fixed point on the opposite side of the room, trying to clear his mind of the dream, until the glint of light on metal caught his eye. He screwed his eyes shut, refusing to even look at the set of blood-stained maroon armor piled neatly in the corner of his room.


End file.
